


2, 4, 6, 8!

by Hambone



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Denial, Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP, Sticky Sex, Sub Megatron, Switching, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:46:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron tries, and fails, to switch things up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2, 4, 6, 8!

“You wanted to see me, Lord Megatron?”

Shockwave kneeled before his throne, slow and graceful as ever. Megatron was impressed by the silence in his motions, the great weight of his frame balancing in perfect, calculated poise. Perhaps this would be easier than he had thought.

“Ah, Shockwave, my most loyal servant.”

The wave of heat his words produced was unmistakable, despite his spy’s tight EM field and carefully monitored cooling ventilations. _That,_ at least, would make things simpler. Shockwave’s desire for him was not exactly a secret within the walls of the Nemesis, but coaxing him to actively participate could very well be another matter entirely.

As per usual, however, Megatron had very little care or curiosity regarding the wants of his subordinates provided they did not contradict his own. Which, judging by the way Shockwave was holding himself stiff as a girder but unconsciously leaning closer as he waited for a command, was looking very unlikely here. While normally he would find some amusement and tactical advantage in allowing Shockwave to stew in his quiet way, today Megatron had needs that were rather time sensitive and very little will to piddle around.

“I have a task for you, should you choose to accept it.”

Perking at the beginnings of a directive, Shockwave bowed his head low.

“Your word is my command, Lord Megatron.”

Not above reveling in the complete and total trust being openly displayed here, Megatron stood, arms akimbo as he studied his general.

“Good. I would like to take you to the berth, then.”

His bluntness was certainly worth watching the way Shockwave’s entire body stiffened, finely tuned motor functions battling with the intense and sudden desire to shiver. Raising his optic ever so slowly, Shockwave reset his vocalizer.

“For what purpose, my Lord?”

Megatron scoffed at that.

“Do not play the part of the innocent, Shockwave. I desire an interface, and I would like you to participate.”

Shockwave’s vents stalled. It took him a moment to collect himself enough to respond, and when he did, his words were laced with barely repressed emotion.

“ _I am honored_.”

“As well you should be.”

Pleased that the interaction had gone as smoothly as he could have hoped, Megatron wordlessly gestured to the room’s side door and without waiting moved to enter it. He knew Shockwave would follow without question. His loyalty was both a pleasant affirmation of his trustworthiness, and a thankful relief from the usual clutter of loud personalities his other close compatriots displayed at the drop of a nut. That was largely the reason they were even in this situation.

Of course Shockwave was surprised by his question. Not many were permitted to be so close to their leader so as to touch him, many less to see him in such a vulnerable state. While his own queer mix of pride and modesty likely made up most of it, Megatron was also sure it could be chalked up to the fact that his former berth partner was rather vocal about their private commiserations and had been so for quite a while now.

Lugnut was not a subtle creature. That was one of the reasons Megatron had booted him from his quarters. It did not do to have one’s generals all whispering, shouting, and occasionally singing about his personal preferences, even if it was largely done behind his back. The other reason was that Lugnut had been getting a little too big for his steel belted britches, so to speak. It was true that Megatron enjoyed a good, efficient pounding from time to time, but his needs were apparently enough to make Lugnut forget his place. Regardless of his intimate proclivities, _nobody_ was permitted the right to manhandle him. Not even mechs with large, powerful claws and wonderfully well-proportioned spikes.

This time, he suspected his choice in partner had been spot on. Shockwave’s posture, subtle enough that only a few such as Megatron could read it, was radiating all the signs of true submission. His helm, normally so high and observant, now remained stiff and bowed, not enough to appear slavish but enough that his embarrassed arousal was clear. His frame had a natural slouch, the weight of millennia slowly pulling him towards Cybertron’s core, but now it held the distinct curl of intentional hunkering, as if he wanted to appear smaller.

No one with as much spatial awareness as Shockwave could be so obviously servile without recognizing it. This only sweetened the gesture, however. It meant Shockwave was intentionally exposing his desire, his weakness. He was delivering himself to Megatron on a titanium platter.

Megatron’s private quarters were as bland and efficient as quarters should be, luxuries spurned out of distaste for the bourgeois sensibilities they represented, the dominating upper class who had driven the Decepticon cause to form in the first place. He could see Shockwave’s approval in the brightening of his optic, though he respectfully declined to perform a full sweep of the room.

Not bothering to attempt to acclimate his general to the setting, Megatron immediately positioned himself at the head of the berth. In a surprising display of timidness, Shockwave only followed him as far as the foot board.

“My Lord,” he began, voice quiet, “at the risk of sounding sentimental, I must thank you for the opportunity to…serve you so.”

Patting the berth beside him, Megatron chuffed softly.

“You do indeed sound sentimental,” Shockwave winced, “but your devotion to the cause is duly noted.”

This time the wave of heat from Shockwave’s body was so strong and unmistakable it was doubtful he could have hid it if he tried. He managed to slide himself up onto the berth in front of Megatron’s stretched legs, sitting neatly on his knees, hands in his lap. He awaited his next command in silence, another nice change from Lugnut’s rambunctiousness, even if Megatron missed the rough, unguided pawing.

“Let me see what I’m working with.”

Shockwave did not suppress his shudder as his interface paneling spilt apart and retracted, angling his hips upwards to present himself. As expected, his valve was thin and clean, shining darkly with a light coating of lubricant. Surprisingly enough, however, that was all he displayed, spike cover still sealed shut, seemingly without difficulty. Shockwave’s claws clicked together nervously.

“I do hope it is to your liking, my Lord.”

He really meant it, too. Megatron hummed and his optic flickered slightly, clearly wracked by pleasure simply from being observed. This was also new to Megatron; while he had had his fair share of adoring Decepticon low life’s lining his berth, Lugnut most certainly included, there was a kind of wanton depravity to Shockwave’s pleasure that really struck him.

“It will do,” he said, watching with interest as another shudder swept over his general.

In kind, he retracted his own panels, baring everything necessary. Neither his valve nor his spike were pressurized, the latent charge that had prompted him to bed Shockwave in the first place not enough to leave him right and ready. Shockwave seemed hardly deterred, creeping forward, gaze flashing back and forth between his master’s face and array.

Still, he refrained from touching without the command. The simple obedience Megatron had initially craved was now starting to shine with less luster, a desire for Shockwave to just get on with it growing wild and ugly in his laser core. Finding the situation well within the realm of salvagability, Megatron parted his thighs more, folding his arms behind his helm languidly.

“You may begin.”

Shockwave practically trembled, immediately pushing in to rub the flatter plains of his face against the curve of Megatron’s crotch plating. His claws traced along thin seams, dipping into his housing every so often to caress the head of his slowly expanding spike. Each touch seemed to send his general into another fit of pleasure, thin thighs grinding together as he doted attention on Megatron’s person.

While he could not deny that the subtle touches were arousing, each kiss of a claw nipped uncomfortably into his sensitive equipment. Shockwave’s hands were not made for delicate work on the living, and it showed. He had wondered, for some time now, how honestly experienced he was. Megatron knew Shockwave had certain preferences that spanned far outside the circle of common decency and polite conversation, but it was becoming increasingly clear that his skills in true, mutual Decepticon interface were painfully out of practice.

His determination and abject adoration made up for it somewhat. The moment Megatron’s spike head breached the open air, he was up against it, nuzzling and petting it like a precious treasure. Megatron could smell Shockwave’s lubricant from the head of the berth, heady and unmistakable. His own arousal, though, felt dwindling at best, Shockwave’s tender ministrations hardly enough to work up a real charge. Deciding that the main course was the next dish on the menu, Megatron gripped Shockwave by an antenna, halting his movements.

“I’ll deal with this.”

Shockwave actually moaned when Megatron, still gripping him tightly by the sensory appendage, bowled him over onto his back. It was a soft, cooing noise, almost surprised, and his general did not even try to fight back.

“M-my Lord?”

His thighs fell open easily, Megatron edging in between them on his knees. He pressed a firm hand on Shockwave’s waist to hold him there, the other wrapping around his own spike roughly and immediately setting the real pace he needed to get him there. Beneath him, Shockwave squirmed, watching with rapt interest as Megatron worked himself into a state of real intent. He raised his hips an inch every time Megatron growled, valve clearly clenching in anticipation.

“Prepare yourself.”

While the main reason behind his urgency was a fear that his own readiness would be long coming, he half hoped the sight would assist him in hardening enough for the initial penetration. Shockwave scrambled to comply, curling his svelte torso in on itself as he reached an enormous hand between his legs. Still, he did his best not to cover himself, allowing his first claw sinking deep inside his valve to be perfectly visible to Megatron’s bland curiosity.

Lubricant spilled out around his digit with a slick squelch, and Shockwave gasped quietly. Despite the size of his digit, it slid in with ease, pulling the small, black nodes back until they lit with charge. As Megatron watched, he thrust into himself slowly, savoring the feeling of being watched, adding a second claw far sooner than he had though would be safe. He really was dripping, liquid sheen brightening the dull tank treads on his thighs.

Megatron hummed, hands quickening on his spike. He manually pulled Shockwave’s thighs wider apart, shifting closer, and Shockwave’s ventilations hitched. It was clear he was rather well spread already, claws sinking in nearly passed the knuckle. The speed increased slightly, Shockwave pulling himself apart until small flashes of his drenched insides where visible with every twist.

When Megatron stopped him with one hand, his servos shook. He allowed himself to be pulled away, leaving his valve bare and leaking, barely restraining himself – though from what, Megatron couldn’t say. Interest rising, Megatron smoothed a thumb down the folds, smiling dully at the extra clench the action caused. As though it were beneath him, he curled his index finger and thumb around his external node, tweaking it roughly. Shockwave moaned.

“Lord Megatron!”           

“Hold still,” Megatron ordered, and Shockwave’s helm fell back with a soft “oh!”, as if he were already on the edge of overload. He did, however, comply, hips stilling apart from the occasional shudder to allow Megatron room to line himself up.

The first gentle press of his spike’s head between Shockwave’s valve lips had him questioning why he was ever dissatisfied. Even with his impressive stretching, Shockwave was tight, narrow hips and waist bending back as he was lifted to better accommodate the position. Both of them were enraptured by their connection, watching as they came together inch by inch. Megatron growled but even that was not quite enough to silence Shockwave’s hitching gasps, so muted and yet unmistakably obvious due to their unusual nature. Seeing his general’s self-control fray so easily left Megatron wondering why he hadn’t sampled him before. His valve twinged, as if in response to the question, but he ignored it, trying to focus on how wet and hot Shockwave was around him.

Because he really, really was. Shockwave’s back bowed ever so subtly when Megatron pushed the last few inches inside, optic flickering offline momentarily in abject rapture. His valve rippled, calipers untrained and overwhelmed. He knew he was large for a mech of Shockwave’s proportions, and it appeared his partner reveled in that fact, helm swaying left and right as he attempted to return to himself. Megatron himself knew firsthand how easily a valve could acclimate to a larger size class, and he nearly stumbled as his own equipment one again spiraled in on air. It would help if Shockwave was more active, but he merely tilted his hips higher, accepting whatever Megatron was willing to dole out. His hands remained heavy and complacent at his sides, claws digging gently into the berth pad.

Having very little patience for Shockwave’s enthusiastic submission, Megatron wasted no time savoring the moment and began to thrust, fast and hard, holding one of Shockwave’s thighs back with a firm hand, the other planting itself beside his rocking chest. His pace increased, impeccably timed and strong, and he heard the berth creak below them. While their combined weight still did not compare to Lugnut alone, Megatron’s spark swelled at the sound, a brief flash of memory splitting his processor and his valve cycled down hard.

Shockwave, in turn, contracted, moaning sharply as a particularly hard thrust broke him. His optic offlined, claws finally pushing hard enough against the padding to threaten a tear, and his valve positively squeezed Megatron, lubricant gushing fourth as he came. He was so clean and neat normally that he sloppiness of his sensual side was somewhat of a surprise.

“So quickly?” mused Megatron, a smile twisting his lips despite himself. Shockwave shuddered again, another ripple working its way through his calipers.

“I-I’m sorry, my Lord…”

Ripping his spike from Shockwave’s valve, Megatron laughed, almost bitterly.

“Turn over.”

The response was instantaneous, Shockwave rolling over, vibrating with post-overload shocks, and pushed himself up on his hands and knees, helm hanging low.

“Very good,” and he was slamming back inside, hoping the new angle would bring him more pleasure than the last. Shockwave groaned, already moving back to meet each thrust. Megatron grabbed his hips with one hand, the other immediately flying to his neck and yanking hard. He could feel the barely concealed pulse of energon behind the heavy armor, intimately sense the quickening of his spark as he was roughed up. Shockwave was truly enjoying this, the degradation of the position feeding his arousal like high potency fuel.

Unfortunately, his own body was not responding so well.  

In fugue state of rage born of unsated lust, he rammed harder, slamming Shockwave off his hands and face first into the berth. Already overstimulated, Shockwave could only squirm as he was pushed into yet another overload, a muffled cry escaping the folds of the berth where his helm had been pressed.

The clenching of Shockwave’s equipment over his spike only served to make his own clamp down with sympathy. He was wet, wetter than he should have been with all his attention supposedly focused on his spike, and it was beginning to distract him more than he’d like. Even as Shockwave’s liquid heat splashed up against the base of his pelvic span, his own was soaking down the back of his thighs. He lifted a knee, trying to gain better traction as he fragged his still limp subordinate raw.

He could feel the charge crackling around Shockwave’s waist, tickling against his fingertips but even the massive surges of raw energy spitting from between his soaked thighs couldn’t bring Megatron to the edge. It should not be hard; spike goes in valve, friction builds, voilà! Clearly his general was enjoying himself. He almost found himself considering the possibility of someone having slipped him a circuit dampener, as if his seeming impotence was born of something more sinister than a simple conflict of needs.

Thankfully, fate intervened.

“Lord Megatron, I-I demand compensation!”

The door to his personal quarters burst open as if he hadn’t spent a small fortune on that sextuple locking mechanism that wannabe runt Swindle had been railing on about. Enshrouded by the smoke of whatever explosive maneuver he had used to make his entrance, Lugnut panted in barely restrained fury.

“Lugnut!”

Megatron’s reaction could probably have channeled itself into something more coherent, but he was currently crotch to soaking crotch with another bot. Speaking of which, Shockwave had tensed almost painfully the moment they had been interrupted, lifting his head, with some effort, to regard the intruder.

“Oh my.”

Apparently he still had enough spark left in him to spit a bit of venomous sass. Lugnut’s five optics focused like lasers on their connection.

“My Lord! You replaced me with this, this _faithless heathen!”_

Bracing himself on Shockwave’s back as he righted to a more appropriate speaking position, Megatron snorted.

“He is anything but.”

This prompted another languid shudder in the valve around him.

“Aside from that, what gives you the right to smash your way into my personal quarters like this? Do you really think I am any more assured of your loyalty knowing you have such a disregard for my privacy?”

This clearly shook Lugnut, his miniscule processor reeling for a purpose, but he recovered quickly.

“I am not here for myself, Lord Megatron!”

“Oh, really?” Megatron curled his lips a little, shifting inside Shockwave as if to begin thrusting again.

“You mean to tell me the satisfaction of your own brutish libido is in no way involved in this breach of protocol?”

“As usual, my Lord, your insight is boundless!” cried Lugnut, clearly not getting the sarcasm.

“I am here for you!”

With that he began stalking across the room, shaking the berth with each great step. They both jerked back in shock, Megatron wincing as he was tugged and Shockwave raggedly moaning. Compromised in every sense of the term, neither one had the time or energy to evade to approaching storm. Lugnut tore them apart, tossing Shockwave to the floor like a sack of bolts. Megatron fell back against the cushioning with a snarl.

“What in spark’s sake are you doing, you halfwit?”

Shockwave collected himself quickly for someone who was two and a half overloads into the evening. Lugnut rounded on him, bio lighting bright with wrath.

“How dare you accuse me of treachery when you cannot even satisfy our Lord!”

Shockwave pushed himself up on his elbows, a mixture of real mortification and indignant rage tinting his gasp.

“What – well, I never! I believe we were doing perfectly fine before you forced your way in, you brainless pre-Quintesson Age _drone!_ ”

Lugnut threw his shoulders back in a righteous bellow.

“You claim to be worthy of his intimate blessings, but you cannot even bring him one overload!”

Megatron was watching the exchange with a kind of bemused shock. While he was certainly angry about the intrusion, Lugnut was hardly a real threat. Besides, his display of violent devotion, misguided as it was, sent little shocks straight to his core, and he was again painfully aware of his own twitching valve. Shifting his knees together, he sat up, fully intending to break the two apart before things got messier than they needed to.

“Selfish fool! You are not deserving of Megatron’s glorious frame!”

He brought a fist down on the still weakened Shockwave’s helm like a bomb. Apparently too late, Megatron shouted something about ceasing their pointless quarreling, but Lugnut was already upon his victim, smacking Shockwave’s hapless form across the room as though he weighed nothing.

Then, he was on the berth, on Megatron before he could even react, throwing him forward into the puddle Shockwave had created and pulling his hips up high.

“Watch and learn the folly of your ways!”

Megatron scrabbled at the padding in surprise, growling out and order that cut off the moment pressure was applied to his valve. He lurched forward, insults dying in his throat as something thick and wet squirmed inside him. Lugnut’s tongue was untrained and sluggish, but it was so weighty and dexterous, curling inside him to meet the nodes he had memorized stellar cycles ago, and it had him bucking back within nano-kliks. A strangled moan pushed its way between his lips, even as he tried to focus his optics again, get ahold of the situation.

“Mm, my Lord, you are clearly in need of my service!”

Lugnut pulled back, swiping his tainted glossa across his lipless maw.

“You are heavily lubricated already!”

“Unhand me, you idiot!”

The moment the stimulation ended, Megatron was struggling to stand, kicking back at his assailant half-heartedly.

“No!”

Lugnut roared again, pushing the greater bulk of his weight onto his leader’s back, effectively pinning him.

“It is my duty to satisfy you, and so I shall!”

“Lugnut, I will demote you into engine maintenance if you don’t-!”

His threat was demolished in the moan that gurgled from his vocalizer next, Lugnut’s spike, swollen and perfect, forcing it’s way between his legs. He could have fought back; he could have pushed Lugnut off him and blasted him into the next dimension, but the moment he felt that fat, solid heat nudging between the lips of his valve, spreading him open in ways he had never experienced before or after he had first taken his loyal idiot, he was wordless, thoughtless, aware of nothing else.

When it finally shoved inside, he howled, a sound intended to show anger but merely coming out a wanton moan. Lugnut reciprocated his sentiment with a pleasured shout, wrapping his strong claws around Megatron’s shoulders and holding him still as his hips pistoned, working up the pace faster than could be accounted for, giving Megatron no time to adjust or think, blistering heat melting his legs into strutless puddles.

As much as he was loath to admit it, Lugnut had been right: Shockwave’s needy submission had done nothing for him. His charge had been dwindling from the moment they had removed their panels, hardly worked up enough to keep spiking him. Something that should be a recreation had turned into a chore. Now, though, he was as hot as he had ever been, hotter, perhaps. His spike, trapped between his stomach and the berth, throbbed, valve wide and wet as Lugnut’s ridged spike tore at his nodes, rough enough to hurt, and it was everything his spark had craved.

Really hammering him now, Lugnut laughed triumphantly.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it, my Lord?”

Gritting his teeth as best he could around his moaning, Megatron refused to answer. A particularly hard thrust had him nearly losing his mind, thighs trembling where they had been shoved. Lugnut’s spike was so hard inside him, so demandingly powerful.

“Admit it, glorious one! Admit that I am the one who brings you satisfaction!”

“L-Lugnut, you, yuh-!”

He could not rebuff the statement, but pride locked his jaw shut.

“Admit it, my Lord!”

Lugnut shoved into him so hard his optics whited out, resetting as his processor was filled with static and colors.

“Lugnut! Ah, you, you are correct!”

“Yes, Lord Megatron!”

He pulled them both back, laying on the berth so Megatron was above him, facing the rest of the room, not that he could see it. Moving his claws to pinch at Megatron’s hips, Lugnut bounced him violently into his still hard pounding hips.

“You’re right, I, I-!”

“What, my Lord? You what?”

He was going to beat Lugnut to a pile of scrap after this, but right now, under the influence of this incredible shock, Megatron could only brace himself against his subordinate’s knees and rock his pelvic span back faster.

“I need it! I need, aha, bigger bots, bot like, like you, I need-!” and then his helm fell back in an undignified cry as Lugnut thrust up so hard he was pulled from the berth for a moment, the back of his valve crushing inward on his torso, stretched to full capacity.

Their movements became more frenzied, coming together with such vigor that Megatron’s legs bowed out, purple and green smearing along the insides of his thighs as though the paint was wet. His valve spat lubricant like a faucet. Even if he hadn’t been forced to break, to writhe and cry like a whore, the physical evidence would have been too great to overlook. He was desperate for it, even if he knew Lugnut would surely embarrass him later, even if he knew that being pushed down and fragged like an animal was demeaning and not proper for him, he could not be without it. It was the only way he could stand interface now, the only thing that could bring him the relief from his duties he so dearly needed.

“L-Lord Megatron…”

All at once, he was alerted again to the other presence in the room. His optics flickered online, hardly aware they’d even been off, focusing as best he could on the trembling form of Shockwave at the foot of the berth.

“Shockwave!”

He could hardly be embarrassed anymore, not in front of his loyal spy who had begged with far less decency than himself only moments before, but in his dazed state he could find nothing more to say. Shockwave himself looked definitively worse for ware, dented by Lugnut’s tantrum earlier, but still bright with arousal as he watched.

“Mind your place, Shockwave!”

Lugnut, however, was having none of it, pushing into Megatron with a deep grunt.

“Lugnut,” Shockwave hissed, imploring, “let me come up.”

It was not as though anything was physically preventing him from joining them on the berth, but it was clear that Lugnut’s possessiveness would not let him stay long. Beyond that, something far more depraved lingered in his voice, a desire to be given permission, to be ordered about. Even his aversion to Lugnut’s being could not disguise the lust that still swelled inside his spark.

“Ab-absolutely not!” Lugnut snarled possessively, rolling his hips in a way that made Megatron’s optics practically short out. Shockwave wriggled uncomfortably, vents hissing.

“My Lord! Allow me to attend to your spike, please!”

Megatron was in no position to be allowing anything, however, and his plea fell of deaf receptors.

“Do not try to go around me, you traitor!” Lugnut shouted, condensation trickling down his optic as the heat from their frames reached peak levels.

“Restrain yourself and watch how to _really_ pleasure our glorious Lord!”

Again swapping their positions, Lugnut pulled his dripping spike out of Megatron just long enough to push him down, this time facing up, and hiking his knees up to his chest as he shoved back within the drenched depths. Megatron moaned, long and deep, and Shockwave practically cried out at the sound.

“Oh, my Lord!”

He shoved back on his aft, bracing his feet against the berth and shoving his thick claws inside himself. He was still obviously, painfully wet, optic fixed on Megatron’s bouncing form as he worked himself desperately. Megatron watched him with a glazed stare, Lugnut increasing his pace as charge began to skitter across their plating.

Close, so close. The feeling of Lugnut behind him, mercilessly giving him what he wanted, and Shockwave curled up in front of him, wheezing little shaking pants as he tried to fit a third servo inside himself; it was far too much. The mixture of fanatic domination and frantic submission, all focused on him and him alone, boiled a pure energy inside him as neither could accomplish alone.

“Lugnut!”

With one last, ragged cry, Megatron overloaded, back arching up powerfully enough to actually stall Lugnut in his pounding. Lugnut himself was absolutely ecstatic, stroking Megatron’s hips with his claws as he jumped their hips together as best he could, his own overload triggered by the sight alone. Despite having been berated before, he did nothing to attempt to pull out, transfluid filling Megatron’s valve in a final show of dominance, and it only prolonged the pleasured release of Megatron’s energies.

He slumped forward, finally being allowed control over his own form as Lugnut pulled out and away, both trembling with exertion, vents and fans open and whining. Megatron panted harshly, but as he came back to himself, a laugh dragged its way from his throat.

“M-my Lord?”

Lugnut sounded almost meek, as if he were only just realizing the ramifications of his actions. Pushing himself to lie of his side, Megatron regarded him coolly.

“Perhaps your violent and occasionally arrogant demeanor in our private moments is appreciated.”

Lugnut’s jaw dropped in what passed for him as a grin, elated by the revelation.

“Th-thank you my Lord! I only wish to serve you, to make you as satisfied and relaxed as I can, to-!”

“However,” Megatron cut in, smile sharpening into a smirk, “if you ever attempt to throw yourself at me when I do not desire it again, I will removed your brain from that tiny casing of yours and crush it before your very optics. Do you understand?”

Stiffening, the giant threw himself into their mess, bowing low.

“Yes, Lord Megatron! I am at your beck and call, and yours alone!”

Megatron was about to laugh again when a quiet groan drew his attention to the floor. Shockwave was still struggling for his own overload, clearly experiencing some difficulty now that the object of his perverse affections was no longer paying him the slightest of mind.

“My, are you still here?”

His tone was so cold that even Lugnut seemed surprised. It had the desired effect, however, and Shockwave writhed.

“My Lord, I…”

Megatron stood, legs shaking, covered in Lugnut’s colors, but more than firm. Shockwave ripped his hand away from himself, recoiling a little as he was advanced on. Megatron sneered.

“I suppose I can assist you, though I hardly see the point.”

His foot fell hard on Shockwave’s interface equipment, heel grinding unkindly against his valve. Jerking hard, Shockwave moaned loudly.

“Sir!”

“You really are a nasty creature, aren’t you?”

Megatron twisted his foot and it was over, Shockwave falling back with a thud against the flooring, seizing in pleasure as the boot was pushed against him still, lubricants bursting out around it.

“Tch,” said Megatron, watching his general’s form twitch, “pathetic.”

That seemed to send Shockwave over again, though not as strongly, another small spurt of liquid heating his pede.

Stepping back, Megatron wiped his brow slowly, looking over his two subordinates, dressed in varying states of debauchery, and snorted again.

“I am going to get this filth off me. My quarters had better be spotless upon my return.”

They seemed a little stunned, neither moving to comply.

“That is, if you want to remain a permanent fixture in my berth. Though I suppose whoever contributed best will likely earn the roll.”

As he made his way, bow legged, to the wash rack, he could just hear the beginnings of another argument starting behind him, and again he laughed.     

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from the old 2008 kinkmeme, which can be found [here](http://tf2007fun.livejournal.com/506446.html?thread=18220366#t18220366) .


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